Gone
by CierraAguilera
Summary: What if Katniss never went into the games, but Peeta did? How would her life unfold? Would he win? And how, most importantly, would her feelings develop?   *Let me know if I should continue this story! Thanks  -CA
1. Chapter 1

"Ayanna Danebluff!" Effie Trinket, the official announcer and representative of district 12 in the Hunger Games, called out in the still cold March air. Her voice rang out and bounced off the walls of our meager district's town square. You could hear a pin drop. It's like this every year, because here in district 12, we don't celebrate the slaughter of 23 people each year.  
>The first thought that rolls through my head is: It isn't me. I quickly exhale and realize I was holding my breath. My eyes dart to Prim, my sister, and her baby blue eyes are full of relief that neither her or I were selected to be thrown into the capitol's disgusting games. But her mouth is still set in a grim line because she is now old enough to know that the girl called is still going to lose her life. Well, probably anyway. District 12 never wins. In fact, our one winner is on the stage now with his eyes glazed over as he sways ever so slightly from his last drink. Haymitch Abernathy is a real charmer.<br>Meanwhile, our newest girl tribute is shakily making her way up to the stage. I see tears in her eyes and already know she's not going to make it. Her dark brown ringlets of hair just touch her shoulders and are blown left and right in the wind. Her gray eyes dart back and forth. She's truly a beautiful girl, her features soft and clean. I think I've overheard her talking about Gale in school before. She- Gale! I turn around to find my partner in hunting, my best friend, staring at me. He smiles and crosses his fingers not to be called.  
>They're about to call the boy's name after they settle down about our first tribute. The waves of nerves begin crashing over me again, but this time not for myself. I'm sure the worry shows in my face because a girl next to me asks if I'm alright. I brush her off because the owner of the awful pink hair opens up her golden ball filled with the names of all eligible boys in district 12. Her dainty and manicured fingers pluck out a name. She opens her mouth and it's not Gale. It's my boy with the bread. And my heart stops.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! So thanks for suggesting that I continue. And yeah i realize my chapters are a little short right now but that's definitely going to change soon. I'm still trying to get a feeling for this story so have patience(: The next will be much longer. Here's another taste of what this story will be like! Enjoy and please review!

- Cierra Aguilera

A thousand thoughts flood into my head instantaneously. Not him! _Why _him? He doesn't deserve this. How could the one person to whom I owe my life be selected to die? I can feel the blood draining from my face. I glance around me and see looks of concern and fear for the baker's son. My legs are beginning to shake slightly and I remember a cold rainy day several years ago – _my face rests on the pavement of the cobblestone streets. I'm ashamed, cold, hungry, and most of all, scared. A small bell goes off and I turn my head. My vision makes its way through the delicate drops of rain collected on my eyes to see a boy. His head of blond curls walks toward me with two steaming loaves of bread in his arms. The pitter patter of raindrops are the only sounds that exchange between us and he quickly tosses the burnt bread in my direction and little did he know, but he tossed my life._ –

"Peeta Mellark?" Effie's shrill voice brings me to reality once more. I didn't notice that our second tribute hadn't made his way up to the stage yet. Turning my head to the boys' area, I saw the same set of beautiful, messy curls bouncing somewhere. But this time, it wasn't toward life, it was toward death. My heart sank out of fear for him, as I'm sure others' were as well. His broad shoulders were rigid, a wall that can't be broken down. He turned to face the crowd and his face was strong, with a gentle innocence about it. His eyes were as mesmerizing as I recalled and looked straight ahead with their piercing blue sheen. Was I the only one who didn't see fear? Or was he braver than I thought.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, May I introduce to you, the tributes of District 12 for the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Her voice echoed in the solemn, somber air of our district. And I decided to do something risky. I put three fingers up to my mouth and pointed them at Peeta. The people around me followed suit and it was a sea of hands pointed out to our newest tributes, saying a goodbye. Peeta's gaze flickered to mine and for only a second and I thought I saw something there. Remembrance? Hope? Longing? I couldn't be sure because it was gone as quickly as it came. His eyes returned to their strong stature and in that moment I decided that it couldn't be goodbye, it wouldn't be goodbye. I swiveled around and walked away, because Peeta had to come home. Because my money's on him.


	3. Chapter 3: The Confession

Author's Note: Well first off, I am so so sorry I never proceeded with the story, school and time got the better of me :( Let me know if you guys still like it though and if you still want me to continue with this plot line. Thank you! (:

-CierraAguilera

_**Chapter 3: The Confession**_

I slam the door behind me as I storm into the house. Thoughts are pouring into my head a thousand miles a minute; Who is his competition? How can I help him? The fear racks through me and I fall onto my bed. I don't understand why I'm so angered, so upset by this. After all, isn't he just a boy? The truth settles around me like dust that is found everywhere in District 12: No. He's not just a boy. I've done my best to ignore him, to leave him be, forget that I owe. But I do owe him, and the past is bubbling to the surface. A tear rolls down my face and I quickly slap it way. I might be upset, but I am anything but weak.

I flop over onto my back to stare at the ceiling. A thought crosses my mind, the tributes have until tonight before they leave for the capitol. And if I remember correctly, visitors are permitted. I'll bring him something, give Peeta advice maybe. Perhaps I can express the continual debt I owe him.  
>A rap on the door and a set of familiar foot steps drag me out of my thoughts.<p>

"Katniss? I saw you leave the ceremony, are you here? I can talk if you need to."

I let out an exhausted sigh and call out, "Yeah, I'm in here." I turn my head and see a face writ with concern. Gale's forehead scrunches up as he carefully takes a seat on the bed.

"Why'd you leave? We see kids leave for the Capitol every year. And no one we know was picked."

I can't help but silently deny his words in my my boy with the bread and I have never truly had a conversation, I feel as though I know him. He's kind, and brave. Strong, yet gentle. My thoughts wander to his eyes again, full of depth and a beautiful, blue complexion that captures your heart with a single glance. A flitter of a gaze, through a thick layer of eyelashes. Peeta had been so calm when he walked up to the stage, more likely toward death, which was a concept I wasn't willing to consider. I'm suddenly aware of a gruff cough and my eyes flit up toward Gale, almost forgetting he was here.

"Katniss?" he says. I shake my head, to clear my thoughts and answer my company.

"I know we don't know them, but it sickens me, Gale. I think I'm going to go visit them." I quickly stand up, realizing I'm not sure what time I can actually get in to talk to him. My head scrambles trying to think of something to give to Peeta to show him I'm truly grateful for that dreadful day in the rain years ago. I swiftly make my way into my bedroom, that I share with my mother and my sister, Prim, and I approach the dresser. My gaze falls upon a small, golden locket my father gave me when I was young. It looked almost like a pocket watch in shape, timeless and masculine. Inside it was picture of myself, full of joy and brightness, clearly reflected in my genuine smile and eyes. My young complexion highly contrasts that of the older face of my father standing next to me. His tanned skin made the gray of his eyes sparkle, and his tussled dark brown hair was interwoven with the dust of the coal mines. A wave of pain racked my body and I snatched the locket before practically running out the door, not bothering to say goodbye to Gale.

An assault of light pierced my vision, and I quickly drew my hand up to shield my face from the sun's rays. I started walking toward the town's main square, and the place where Peeta resides, the Justice Building. My shoes that match the light blue dress my mother gave me clack along the cobblestone streets as I approach the nicer area of District 12. The people who attended the reaping, which were probably everyone, were filing out of the town square, with mournful countenances on their faces. This is how it was every year, knowing the children of our district were going to die. I shake the thought from my head, swiftly. Peeta dying was unthinkable at the moment. The dull gleam from the windows of the Justice Building comes into my line of sight and I pull myself along a little faster. I storm through the doors and asked the first person I see where I could see the boy tribute.

A young woman at the desk, peers up at me through a pair of glasses. Her small frame was unnaturally thin, and the gray of her eyes were sickeningly dull. She sneered at me and with a shrill and rather cold voice said, "Up the elevator to the 5th floor. It will be the second door on your right."

As soon as the words escaped her lips, I was strutting away. I'm pretty sure I heard her scoff too, but that was unimportant. The ride up the elevator was tediously slow and it was nearly unbearable, as the anxiety was finally beginning to hit me. What would I say to him? Does he even know who I am? Surely he has to otherwise he wouldn't have done me the favor that saved my life so long ago. A sharp "ding!" went off, and I proceeded out of the elevator. A pair of peacekeepers were waiting (apparently the dreadful woman had informed them I was coming.) The two men looked at me from head to toe, and one said "Please, follow me miss."

I walked behind the guards mimicking their militant-like footsteps to the door where Peeta was. My hand reached out for the doorknob, but suddenly the bigger Peacekeeper stands before me  
>"Wait, miss. He has a visitor right now."<p>

My eyes drift to the oak door, and I prick my ears up. I faintly hear the sounds of a woman crying, small sobs, every now and then. A man sighs, and I know from the gruff, deep sound it makes, that it is his father. There is a moment of silence, and the door is opened in my face. My expression must mirror the shock that registers on Peeta's father's face. He gives me a sad smile, and his eyes are rimmed with red from crying. The rest of his family files out after him and I watch them saunter down the hallway and leave the floor, before the guard permits me to enter his room. "Three minutes." he tells me.

I sit down on a small love seat, as my mother calls them, across from him. He hasn't looked up yet, so I clear my throat. When he doesn't react, I speak so softly, it's almost a whisper. "Peeta?"

His head immediately tears up and a look of disbelief is writ on his face. Those blue eyes, have an undeniable tone of despair in them. And I know what he thinks. He thinks he won't make it, and for some reason, this angers me. I stand up, and for good measures, pull him to his feet as well. He stands a number of inches taller than me, and his shoulders are much broader than mine, from years of helping his father make breads for their shop. The wave of blond curls that lay on his head have been disheveled, since I saw them earlier. That's when I start yelling.

"Look, I know you think you're going to die, but you won't. Your going to come home. I've seen you lift flour in the market, and wrestle people, and you're strong. That can help you. You only need to worry about yourself. And find shelter quickly, everyone who wins does that. You're going to win, okay?"  
>I've started shaking him and my voice is starting to quiver by the end of my speech. I take a deep breath to try and recapture the strength I had coming into the room. But it doesn't help and I start falling into Peeta's strong, unsuspecting arms. He catches me easily and we sit on the couch. I start sobbing and I curl up into a ball, with him rocking me back and forth. I start mumbling on about how I can never pay him back for the bread, and how it saved my life, gave me hope. He mutters things like "I know" and "Everything will be all right." he strokes my hair and I look up at him. His gaze is locked with mine and unwavering, all fear and misery swept from them. I reach into my pocket and take out the locket from my father. I grab one of Peeta's hands and gently place the small, gold thing in his hand. "Will you use this as your token?" I whisper. He nods and gives me a small smile and a reassuring squeeze of my hand. A loud banging comes from the other side of the door and I hear, "One minute!" I panic, my heart starts beating too fast. Have I said enough? It dawns upon me that I will never have said enough, not to him. I stand up and smooth my clothes with my hands, and I run my fingers over the intricate braids that lay on my head, trying to compose the mess that I am.<p>

"I-I-I.. I uh.." I start. I'm at a loss for words. Peeta puts a finger to my lips and pulls me into a tight embrace.

"This is enough." he says "Thank you." I relax in his arms.

"You have to come back." I mumble.

He pulls me away from him and with a sincere look in his eyes he starts to open his mouth to speak. Before he can utter a word, I throw caution to the wind, and lean forward to press my lips on his. His are warm and sweet, and they move to match rhythm with mine. He puts his arms around my waist and as I reach up to his hair, but as soon as we start to kiss, the door is thrown open and we tear apart. The guards grab my arms and start to pull me away.

I start shaking; a tear falls down my cheek and I say to him: "Peeta, please stay with me, please."  
>His lips just begin to form words before the door slams before me. And I'm afraid it's the last time I will see his face.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4: The Feeling

**AN: I'm sorry it took so long to update, and it the chapters might be spaced out until school gets out. I'll update much more when the school years finishes up! Thanks, read and review(: **

**-CierraAguilar**

The walk back to my home was not nearly as urgent as the one to the Justice Building. But my nerves were just as high strung; the tension I had was not yet falling. The streets of the district were rapidly emptying as the final rays of the brilliant sun fell over the dull, green hills in the distance. A chorus of chirping crickets started up as I neared my destination. I turned sharply right and came across my home. The old beaten door at the front of the house was in the same condition I had left it in that morning, but I was more appreciative of it. Like I felt with everything right now. My fingers hesitantly curled around the knob and I turned it slowly, creeping in the door.

They were sitting where I expected them to be, at the table, next to the small fire. My mother bore the same look she seemed to always have, aware, but a sheen of distance. After my father died, she had never been the same. Prim's face was twisted with concern, distorting her normally pretty, young features. Her eyes looked far older than twelve. Her little lips were pressed tight though, and I knew she was holding her tongue; stopping herself from asking where I went. So I nodded my head toward the back and said, "Prim, come help me milk Lady."

She nodded quickly and wiggled out her chair following me to our meager backyard.

"What happened after the reaping? Where'd you go, Katniss," she said, jumping right it into her questions knowing I was prepared for them.

So I explained, let her know that I visited Peeta. She listened carefully to the whole story, only pursing her lips or nodding as response. I left out the part about my kissing him, however. She didn't need to know about that.

"I think," she began tentatively, "that he'll make it." Her mouth was set in a firm line of sureness.

I had my doubts however. There were districts that prepared for the games their entire life, where getting picked was a _privilege_. I could feel that sense of unease creeping up my throat again and I shook my head. I forced out a small smile, and responded "Yeah, me too."

The next couple days pass gruelingly. But before I know it, I see his face again. But not in the way I would hope. He is standing next to the girl tribute from district 12 (who's name escapes my thoughts). And he's wearing a striking black suit with what looks like fire coming from it, and my mouth is open in shock. He and the girl look stunning, their faces dark, and eyes full of life. They wave, blowing kisses to the crowd, and they are sure to have the Capitol's citizens wrapped around their fingers, absorbed by the beauty of their costumes, and undeniably their faces. The camera switches to a close up of Peeta, and he looks breathtaking. They haven't changed him like I expect, only highlighted the aspects of him that are great. Like his eyes, they seem to draw my attention whenever I see them on screen, a pool of clear, blue water staring at me.

The girl, who the announcers call Ayanna, is stunning as well. Her dark brown hair is curled into seemingly perfect curls that hang just over her shoulders. And her features are soft, far gentler than mine, and her eyes are a sparking green that the audience is enchanted by. Green, what an odd color for district twelve. She is no doubt from the town, not a measly Seam girl like me.

With these thoughts, a strange feeling grows inside me and I can feel my face growing hot. A small scowl plays on my lips, and I suddenly don't like the fact that Ayanna and Peeta are holding hands. It's trivial, I know. And I can't place why I feel this way. I don't love Peeta, I don't own him. I just want him to come home so I can stop owing him forever, make up for him giving me back my life, and my family's as well. With this unknown heat growing too quickly, I get up and leave the small television in our home and practically run toward the woods.

The sun is beginning to set and I tell myself I should go back. But I continue on, and hop the fence without another thought. About halfway toward the meadow, I detect a second pair of footsteps following me. I don't turn though because I know who it is. When I reach my bow I call out.

"You lose your silent tread, when you're in a hurry you know." I say in a somewhat snappy voice.

He lets out a small laugh, and sits on a rock in front of our favorite tree, that we climb every now and then. Gale and I haven't really spoken since the reaping, and Im not sure why. I wonder if he knows I visited my boy with the bread. I turn and look at him. People say we look alike, but then again all the Seam kids do. We have the same dark brown hair, same gray eyes. He looks more more mature than I do though, wiser somehow. I smile at him, and I know he can see the hint of sadness behind my eyes. In a heartbeat he says, "What's wrong, Catnip?"

I sigh, not sure if I want to explain to another person, but after a little convincing on his part and the acknowledging of him being my best friend, I settle for a shortened story. I don't tell him why I owe Peeta my life, just that I do. And that I visited him, and that I hope he comes back. When Gale hears that I cried in his arms though, he has an expression I've never seen before. It looks almost resentful, and even slightly angry. I can't be sure though, because he composes himself quickly and the moment is passed.

He opens up his arms, and I slide into them. They're warm and comforting, they're my best friends and I'm grateful that he's here comforting me. We start our walk back, after picking up some blackberries from a bush I had discovered last year. We took turns throwing them into the air and catching them in our mouths, keeping tally of who had more. When we arrived at my door I hugged him again, taking advantage of the presence of a welcome set of arms. He ruffled my hair and said, "See you tomorrow, Katniss."

Despite the overdue relief Gale brought me, that night brought me tension once again, but this time it was one that I had never experienced. That night was the first of what would become incessisent nights of sleep, plagued by the torment of nightmares.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: **

**Hi guys, I'm sooo sorry it took this long for me to start writing again. It's really hard with school and everything :( But now it's summer so I promise I'll update more! Reviews are always appreciated too (: Oh! And let me know about the length of this chapter.. more? less?**

**-Cierra Aguilera**

**_ Peeta's P.O.V._**

I shoot straight up in bed, my sheets a tangle around me, soaked in sweat. My breath is rapid from the panic that seized me in my dream. _More like nightmare_, I think to myself. I wriggle out of the foreign bed I've been assigned in the Capitol and blindly make my way over to a chair in the corner of my room. Slowly, I lower myself into it and let out a deep sigh. My heart is still racing from the nightmare.

As usual per lately, I was in the arena. This time, the huge kid from district two I've seen around, Cato I think his name is, tore out my throat. Its not even the worst one I've had so far. The panic that had me in a trance was slowly dissipating, setting around me like dust. I let out a long, heavy sigh and run my fingers through my sweat soaked curls. I lean back into the cushion, and let my mind wander.

_ I_ _still __can't believe I'm here_, I think. Was it really just a few days ago that I was baking bread, icing cakes? I lived a normal life no more than a week ago. I thought nothing could touch me. But I was wrong, because the Capitol can.

I wake up after a few more restless hours of sleep. Slowly, I sit up and get out my bed wandering somewhat aimlessly toward the bathroom. I hop in the shower that comes with my room, and I'm still not used to it. The buttons in front of me are so confusing. I press one, purely guessing, and a strange liquid sprays onto my body that smells strongly of roses. I shrug and lather the soap-like substance, then rinse it off. I step out of the steamy room and pluck a fresh white towel off of a rack on the wall. I wipe the water off my face with the downy surface and quickly pick the first thing I see in my drawer of clothes and throw it on.

Mentally preparing myself for the day, I lace up my shoes and walk out the door. _More training_, I think, _great._ Fortunately it's the last one and then it's our personal skills interrogation. At least that's what I think it is. I find myself in the dining room and I'm the first one there. I reach for a plate and begin piling it high. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, and toast. All that I could imagine for breakfast was there. I even snatched a couple rolls for good measure. As I take my seat an red-haired Avox comes over and pours some more of that sweet drink they serve here into my cup. I think Effie called it hot chocolate. I take my first sip and see Ayanna approaching from the corner of my eye. She, like me, takes far too much food and settles in the seat next to me. Her curls are in a disarray, and I can tell she didn't get much sleep because there are bags under her usually sparkling green eyes. Today, they look rather dull. Back in twelve, I never really talked to her. But we have had quite a bit of time in the Games to speak. And as much as I hate it for both of our sakes, she has become somewhat of a friend.

"Good morning," I manage to let out in a gruff voice between bites.

"Morning," she responds in an equally tired tone. We give each other a few minutes of silence for an opportunity to eat before our "big, big, big day!" as Effie would say. As I finish up my plate, I lean back in my chair and take a sip of my strange Capitol drink.

"So, what do you want to work on together before we see the game makers?" I say. She sighs and shakes out her brown curls from its bun.

"Why don't we work on camouflage today?" she inquires. We've been working together on training so far, because we can both admit that we don't want to be alone right now. I agree by nodding my head and I see Haymitch and Effie come in to the dining room. Haymitch is practically stumbling and I glance at a clock and see that it's only 9:00. _That can't be right_, I think. But the smell on his breath says otherwise. Effie has a bit of disgusted look on her face as her heels click across the floor toward me. It's far too early to hear her voice.

"Peeta!" she chirps, "Good Morning! How did everyone sleep?" No one replies. She humphs, sits down, and adjusts her pink hair. I faintly hear her mumble something about manners, but quickly brush it off. I decide now would be a good time as any to leave before having to converse any more so I get up out of my chair and tell everyone I'm heading to training early. Ayanna quickly gets up as well, wanting just as badly as I do to not be in that room any longer. She swipes a few more rolls and a final sip of the hot chocolate and follows me toward the elevator.

"Good escape plan," she smirks, "Never thought we'd get out of there alive." I laugh quietly as we make our way down to the training room. The screen at the top of the elevator lights up and announces that we have reached the bottom level. We step out together and I hold the door of the training center open for her, then follow her into a day that I can only hope goes well.

Time passes swiftly while I'm painting myself to look like a bush, and it's the first fun thing I've done all week. Ayanna had a more difficult time with it and gave up early on. Now she's talking with some careers, specifically to that Cato kid. He has a wicked grin on his features and the way he's looking at Ayanna is unsettling. It's like he's hunting her. Ayanna laughs and flips her dark brown braid over her shoulder.

The braid reminds me of Katniss again. I've been trying to forget about her, but it can be so hard. The last moment we shared is the hardest to forget. In fact, it's one of the only memories we have together. Of course I have many of her, but she doesn't have many of me. I try to keep myself calm when I think about the way her lips touched mine, how soft they were. I shake my head, I cant think of her like this if I might not come home. it's too painful. But then again, I should indulge myself if my time is running short.

I keep this state of mind as the rest of the day passes in a blur. Before I know it Ayanna is shaking my arm and pointing toward the door where I have to meet the gamemakers. I shuffle in, already knowing what I'm going to do. I start off with some easy things when I get inside. I lift them and throw them around. Gradually I put on more weight and I'm tossing around 150 pound weights like they're nothing. Then they dismiss me and I walk out the door, not looking back. Hopefully they'll appreciate brute strength. Because other than that, I have nothing. I don't wait for Ayanna, I just go straight up toward the roof. I feel like I'm at least somewhat free there. The wind is too noisy, so the Capitol doesn't record sound up here. I get up there right as the sun is beginning to set. Its rays cast bright streaks of red, pink, and this perfect shade of orange. It's so gorgeous, and I can't imagine anything else quite as perfect, except for Katniss, in her own way. I sigh in content and a small smile plays on my lips. Katniss, I think. It's then that I promise myself I will speak to her again, because I think we have some things to talk about.


	6. Chapter 6: The Truth

**AN: Again I'm so sorry for not updating sooner! I'll do my best to stay on top of things now. Thanks for reading. Credits to the Hunger Games goes to Suzanne Collins. Review if you can (: **

**Thanks! **

**CierraAguilera**

_In. Out. In. Out. _As of late, I had been needing to remind myself to breath every time the television was turned on by the Capitol. A panging sense of nervousness was bouncing throughout my chest. I did it now, anxiously awaiting the start of the interviews. Every year for the Hunger Games, Caesar Flickerman, an exotic-haired but surprisingly kind idol of the Capitol, hosted the interviews. They were a desperate attempt for the tributes to scrounge up any last supporters they could find for their trip into the arena. And for those supporters, it was a time to laugh at, mock, or even pity the tributes, before they were sacrificed to the "well-being" of Panem. Then after this years' Games, they will move on, waiting for this time to come around next year.

Beside me, sat Prim in our tiny, simple living room-which was half way into the dining room. She looked nervous too. I could see faint lines on her forehead, making dents in her usually smooth, pink skin. In her eyes there was a hint of worry, but she was doing a good job hiding it. She always did. Prim had always liked the baker's son. Every time I took her to look at his cakes when she was young, she had asked countless questions, questions I knew she wanted to ask him. There was a flush of red in her cheeks, and like always, the end of her shirt was sticking out of the back. A small smile hinted at the corners of my mouth, but my attention was averted by the humming of the television buzzing to life.

"Greetings Panem," a soft melody that was undoubtedly Panem's anthem played in the background. "And welcome to the interviews of the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Cheers erupted and I let out a sound of disgust. Prim followed suit. Caesar's hair was as outrageous as usual, this time a brilliant shade of royal blue. _Better than most years,_ I thought. He was grinning hugely, with his altered lips; likely at the sheer excitement of the crowd. The cameras panned over the group of tributes, and my heart jumped unexpectedly at the sight of my boy with the bread, sitting at the very end.

"Now, let's get started! I wouldn't want to keep you waiting! Up first is, as per custom, District 1. Glimmer would you please step on out!" A young blonde girl got up from the first seat with a seductive smile smeared on her face. Her dress was a beautiful gold color, but as the camera zoomed in on her, I noticed parts of it were see through. Not much was left hidden, but what she showed was seemingly flawless. It was clear just through her clothes; her target was to be sexy. As she talked it only further solidified my guess. Her chat with Caesar was filled with purrs and seductive winks. More people pass, and I start to zone out. There's a redhead, who kind of looks like a fox, and a strong-looking boy who catch my eye as potentially troublesome opponents for Peeta.

It seems like forever, but before I know it, blue-suited Caesar is calling District 11. Quietly rising from her chair is the most tragic thing in these Games, a child. She doesn't look older than 13, and her skin and eyes are a light brown caramel color. Words like tragedy, innocence, and small come to my mind when I look at her. Flickerman announces her as Rue, a 12 year old from 11. My eyes start to well up; what if that had been Prim? I have no idea what I would have done with myself if she was called at that Ceremony. After Rue is her counterpart, an impossibly tall male called Thresh. He looks as though he could kill someone with such ease. Like he wouldn't even blink.

"Okay, our last lady tonight is Ayanna from District 12. Without any warning, I'm blind sided with a mild fit of rage. She looks beautiful; her hair is in perfect ringlets, her face enhanced, but not unrecognizable. And her dress. It's a breathtaking black thing covered with red, yellow, white, and blue gems that look like the embers of a fire. Her tanned olive skin looks like its glowing and those unsettling green eyes of hers sparkle with life. She takes her seat next to Caesar, and I move to the edge of mine, focused on the television set.

"So Ayanna, tell us how you're liking things here in the Capitol," asks Flickerman.

"It's great," she bubbles, "I really like the food and everybody is so nice here! But I do miss my friends and family back home."

"Why don't you tell us about your home then!"

"Oh it's wonderful. It may not be huge and extravagant like it is here, but it has the people I love in it and there's a great sense of community. I live in town; my father is District 12's butcher."

"What about any boyfriends? Is some boy catching your eye back home?" Caesar inquires.

Ayanna lets out a giggle, "Nope, no boys."

"Oh well I'm positive more than a few have their eyes on you! So, Ayanna, your dress looks fabulous tonight. It was designed by..?"

"Cinna!" she chirps in "He's just fantastic, I mean how pretty is this?"

"It is quite beautiful. Can you give us a twirl?"

She dutifully obliges and makes a few full turns. The dress spins and creates the illusion that the fire encompassing her curved body is rising. She giggles and almost falls over by the time the buzzer rings. Caesar says goodbye to her in an almost apologetic tone.

Finally, he announces Peeta. He looks great, natural even, on camera. His blond curls are tamed and swept on to the right side of his head. Like Ayanna's dress, his suit is stark black, but his is missing all the jewels. He quickly makes his way over, sighing quietly as he sits beside Caesar. As the two begin to speak, I can pin his persona down. He's likable and very much like his normal self. They babble on about bread, and Peeta's life back at the town bakery. Peeta tells him about how he couldn't figure out the showers and ended up smelling like roses. A bubble of laughter managed to escape my hoarse throat. But when they start talking about Peeta's love life, I'm as focused as when I hunt. Everything goes quiet, and I hear only what I need to. Every whisper, breath, word, and sentence that they exchange does not pass me by.

Peeta sighs. "Well there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember but I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." The entire crowd mumbles sounds of sorrow for Peeta's lack of love. My heart is beating faster.

"She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.

"Well, a lot of boys like her," says Peeta. Faster Still.

"Here's what you do. You win, you go home. Then she _can't _turn you down," Caesar replies, reflecting on the brilliance of his plan. Peeta smiles at this and I'm afraid that my heart won't slow down ever again.

Slowly, Peeta stammers out, "Winning won't help… Because… Because she came here with me."

The camera switches to Ayanna in a flash. Her face is flushed and her smile is dazzling. It's dizzying. Suddenly, I realize I was wrong, because my heart stops. Held in time forever. A wave of realization washes over me. Not me, Ayanna. A rush of anger swells within me and I'm storming out the door before I can even think. Somewhere in the background, a person is calling my name, but I ignore them and start running. Wiping the hot water off my face, I feel ridiculous. Stupid. So I run to my safe place in the woods.


	7. Chapter 7: The Lie

Told you I'd be faster this time! Gonna work on updating weekly if you guys still like it! But remember, reviews make me write faster AND tell me what you want me to do for the next chapters! Thank you!(:

-CA

"Then she can't turn you down." I feel a small smile creep across my features, but I swiftly swat them away. Focus, Peeta. I swallow and my throat feels unbelievably dry. Just say it, I think.

"Winning wont help... Because... Because she came her with me," I manage to spit out. And it feels wrong, feels fake. I remember all the times my mother scrubbed out my tongue for lying. Laughing inside, I wonder if she would do it now if she were here. I let my words sink in. Swiftly, the camera darts to Ayanna's face and she's blushing, happy. Yet, I can help but feel numb and sick at the same time.

A blaring buzzer sounds in my ear and I jump. Caesar says his goodbyes, but I can barely hear him. It's just sound, not coherent at all. As we all walk off the stage, my head is crowded with thoughts about what's Katniss is thinking right now, feeling. Is she upset? Indifferent? Tension and worry course their way through my blood, down to the tips of my fingers. I'm silent until Ayanna and I step into the elevator headed to the 12th floor, for our district of course. As soon as the doors close I open my mouth to give her an explanation.

Before I can utter a word, I'm slammed into the wall and Ayanna's lips are crashing against mine. Surprise is all that registers in my mind. Surely she knew it was an act? Apparently not because he lips are hungrily pressed against mine, and I don't know what to do. The chime of the elevator goes off and she's off of me as soon as she came. Effie and Haymitch are sitting at the dining room table waiting for us. Shakily, I take a seat.

"I'm going to bed," Ayanna announces. She slips me a glance, and I'm taken off guard by by how much implication lies in it. She saunters off toward her bedroom swinging her hips as she goes, the black jeweled dress swaying with it. I shake my head and quietly ask to speak to Haymitch alone. He follows me to the room with the huge television in it. For a moment I think back to the small fuzzy one in our family room back home. Everything is so different here. As soon as we're alone I turn to Haymitch.

"She kissed me," I state. And i throw my hands up in the air with exasperation. He starts to laugh, and then I'm angry.

"You didn't know, baker boy? Come on. She's been throwing you those looks of longing since we got here. Smart boy like you has got to notice," he says.

"That's ridiculous," I spit out. But is it? I think back and find that he's right. I just didn't notice. She's implied it before. What have I done? Haymitch said this was just a strategy, not a way to hurt someone. The plan was simple, a sad love story would mean more sponsors. Not real feelings. Haymitch is still chuckling to himself as he takes another swig from a bottle of spirits.

"So what do I do? I can't tell her it's a strategy, there's no way she would help us then," I say. "What do you think?

"You have to make Ayanna think you love her too," he shrugs.

My voice falters, and I think of Katniss. "I don't know, Haymitch. I can act in the arena but not out here, I can't lie to her."

Another swig. "You have to. Don't you want to survive?" And with that he stumbles off, nearly falling more than once.

I run my hand through my hair slowly, then I walk to my room. As soon as get in the door, I start tearing off my clothes because they feel like their binding me in, constricting. I walk into the bathroom and press the on button on the shower (which I'm finally getting the hang of). I step into the stream of hot water and let out a deep sigh. Before I can help it, I'm thinking of her again. Her long braid and grey eyes. What I would have given to have her wearing Ayanna's dress, have her frantically kissing me in the elevator. But I'm glad she's not here, glad she's not in danger. I rinse off the last bit of soap on my body and step out the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. After drying off my hair, it settles into its normal mess of blond curls. At least something feels normal. Realizing I forgot clothes, I walk back into the bedroom. The lights were still off, so I flip the switch and the room illuminates.

"Hi." I nearly scream, but only jump instead. Ayanna is laying on my bed in a skimpy, little nightgown. I have to refrain from turning away, it feels wrong to see this much of her. Her catlike green eyes sparkle with what I can only assume is longing.

"Hi," I respond shakily. She pats next to her and I am suddenly over aware that I'm only wearing a towel. My face turns red, and I turn toward the dresser. "Cover your eyes," I say. She obliges, but not before giving me a smirk. I quickly dress, making sure Ayanna isn't looking, and luckily she isn't. I want to tell her to leave, but I know I can't. So I cross the room and plop down on the huge Capitol bed. She does exactly what I don't want, and curls up next to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Can't she tell I'm uncomfortable?

"I'm so glad you feel the same way," she sighs, "I was worried you didn't like me." Nothing. I can't think of anything to say. But words rapidly flood to my mouth when she rolls onto me.

"Ayanna, stop!" Suddenly, she gives me a look filled with bewilderment and hurt feelings. "We can't do this, you know it's against the rules," I say.

At least I have something to tell her that's true, and the pained look washes off her face. So I get up and grab her hand, leading her to the door. Ayanna twirls around and runs her fingers through my hair. Then she reaches up on her tip-toes and kisses me again. This time I don't object at all, I let her kiss me. I let her kiss me and I think of Katniss. Pretend it's her exploring my lips. As we both draw away and I close the door behind her, I can't help but feel terrible. I'm hurting two people I care about, and I have no idea how to fix it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! So obviously the next chapters are going to be the games sooo I was wondering whether you'd prefer Katniss' or Peeta's point of view. Let me know! Thank youu! (: **

**-CA**


	9. Chapter 9: The Arena

Hey everyone! So sorry it's taken so long for me to get the time to do this! Junior year is more hectic than I had anticipated. Thank you for being patient! Let me know what you think! -CA

The last morning in the Capitol arrives as unceremoniously as the rest. I wake up with a sense of calm that's disturbing. As per usual, my room is silent, only the sound of my heart and my breathing. This is it, I think. But no nerves come which I wasn't expecting. The whole week I had been gaining a pressure in chest, but now the anxiety simply faded away like water washing away the flour from skin after a long day of working back home. Home, somewhere that I would never return to. Even if I did, it wouldn't be the same. Not really, anyway.

I push away my thoughts of home and they're rapidly replaced by those of Katniss. Suddenly, questions of what would happen if I returned flood into my head. It's a flurry of images of the past, and hopeful future. Bread. Lips. Braids. The curiosity nearly overwhelms me and I have to take a few deep breaths.

I get up out of the mess of sheets on my bed and stumble into the bathroom. I rinse of quickly, because I know the prep team will likely view my efforts insufficient. After drying off, I throw on whatever I can find, which happens to be an dull green and brown pants. Before I leave, I press my ear to the door to the hallway. I hear nothing and slowly poke my head out making sure no one is there, specifically Ayanna. I don't want to have to see her before I get into the arena. Not looking back, I dart into toward the elevator and slam the button. They doors open dramatically with a melodious bell going off. I hit the button for the basement. This is where our final preparations are before we board the train to travel to the arena, The games are in a different spot each year; to keep the interest of the viewers of course. Of course. All of this is for them.

The doors open once again and I walk into my prep room. Multiple pairs of oddly colored and manicured hands grab at me suddenly and I'm yanked into a chair and scrubbed down. The embarrassment I would have usually felt doesn't even have time to register before it's over. Just like that, their work is over and I check my watch, its only 9:30. There's still a half hour before the train leaves for our mysterious destination. Out of nowhere, that feeling of worry begins to crawl up my throat, and my breath starts quickening. Don't think about it, don't think about it. I walk as fast as I can to the train, to give myself something to do.

Once I get on board, I see the spread of the delicious Capitol food in the front cabin. I pick up everything I can get my hands on. Eggs, sausage, pastries, breads, and that drink I like so much, the hot chocolate. Balancing my plate and cup, I find a table in the back of the train away from the other tributes that have slowly trickled in. The train takes off and I begin eating slowly, savoring it as much as I can. This is the last meal I will be given before being thrown into the arena. As I finish up, I watch the blur of scenery rush past. Just flashes of green, red, yellow, and brown flying by. I can only imagine that they are trees, and flowers, and grass. The suns soaks into my skin and I try to control my breathing, but before I know it the windows slam shut, covered by a sheet of black. We're getting closer.

Half an hour later, the train begins to slow, but my heart speeds up. This is feeling I was waiting for. When the vehicle comes to a stop, we're all guided off the train into separate rooms. Based on the chill, I realize we're underground. The only place we have to go is up. I see a flash of brown curls. Ayanna. Next time I see her she could be dead. A shudder runs up my spine and the hair on my neck stands straight up.

Once in my room, an attendant leans in and says 15 minutes. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking. Portia, my stylist, comes in and has a mournful look on her face. She says nothing, just puts her hand on my back and rubs in small circles. Unlike anything else today, it soothes me. My breathing slows and I'm grateful for that. Soon enough, she has to hand me my clothes. It's a black jacket and pants, and the material looks reflective. Sun, I think. It's going to be hot. Portia helps me into the clothes and laces up my boots for me. I try them out walking around the small room. Then, a small chime goes off and her eyes dart toward me. She's crying. I wipe the tears off of her face and she opens a door toward the back of the room. In it lies a silver stand that will take me to what is likely my death.

A sweet, feminine voice blast over the intercom. 30 seconds, it says, and proceeds to count down. I step slowly onto the platform my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest.

"You can do it, Peeta. For whoever she is," says Portia in a shaky voice. I smile, but then dart my head toward her. Confusion is written in my eyes. How could she know.

"I see it in your eyes," she whispers. Suddenly, a glass wall separates us and the plate is pushing me up. As I catch my last glance of Portia, I get my first breath of the arena air. The sun beats down on my face, and the countdown begins.


	10. Chapter 10: The First Day

Author's Note:Thank you so much to everyone who reads and reviews my work! You have no idea how much I really appreciate it! The next chapter is going to be Peeta's POV so get ready(;

-CA

Katniss' POV

5. He bends forward.

4. His left foot slides back.

3. He breathes raggedly in.

2. He breathes raggedly out.

1. He crouches down slightly.

0. He runs.

In a split second there's a flurry of people at the cornucopia, along with stabbing and hitting and blood. Hands grab at whatever they can find whether it be flesh or supplies. In the corner of my eye I spot Ayanna fleeing, avoiding the sure death that would be there. A flash of blond curls flies by the bottom of the screen. Unlike the others, Peeta grabs a bag of supplies and quickly makes a break for the woods.

The arena this year is not special. It's a dense forest, with a huge opening where the tributes started. Spotted across the plain are hills and streams, and at the far back are mountains, blocking the victims from going anywhere else. The camera stays focused in on the blood bath that is the cornucopia. Already, I see 5 lying dead in front of it, knives and hatchets poking out of them. I shudder. This time of year brings with it an unsettled mind along with its images. In the center, Cato, the strong blond boy from the Careers, is fighting a boy from 5. Both have the ends of long serrated blade, and Cato has the handle. Suddenly, Cato pulls the knife from his opponents gashed fingers. In an almost graceful manner, he spins around then plunges the blade into the boy's chest. He shudders and falls to his knees. I turn away. Shooting them with arrows would be one thing, just like killing an animal. But carving them up, is gruesome.

Eventually, the fight settles down and everyone has left the supply center. The cornucopia lies empty, its golden coat shimmering in the sun, with streaks of blood dripping silently down the side. The dead have been stripped of any weapons they carry, and the announcer declares 7 exterminated.

Soon, the camera begins to follow each tribute. I can see Peeta every now and then, climbing up the hills that go on forever. He stomps through the woods, and I cringe every time he puts his foot down; the other tributes can hear him a mile away, with his ragged breathing and stentorian footfalls.

The camera tends to follow the careers, the group of strong and beautiful people on the Capitol's good side. Without protest from the others, Cato is leading.

"Put all the food into a pile!" he yells. My eyebrows furrow together. I try to sort out why they would do that until Cato grabs one of the kids from the group by the collar of his jacket. Gasping for air, he lets out a small shriek.

Cato, in a cold, unfeeling voice, says, "You'll build it now" And so he does, and suddenly, their peculiar pile makes sense. Shaking, the boy begins to dig holes around the stock of food, and he digs out the bombs from underneath the platforms the tributes waited on for 60 seconds. He takes a moment with each one, moving around wires and circuits, then gently places them in the holes, covering them up again. Anyone who tries to take their food now will die instantly. Blown to pieces. Cato has a devilish smirk painted on his handsome features. Sometimes the most beautiful things are the most dangerous. All the other tributes alive are wandering, and I begin shaking just as the boy did. 16 other people now pose a threat to Peeta, and I can barely think about it.

Catching my attention, the announcer mentions Ayanna. Surely enough, there she is one the small screen walking around looking for shelter. Her tied up brown curls are dampened with sweat and she's breathing heavily. Somewhat cynically, I let out a small, curt laugh. I guess the town girl does have some disadvantages. She looks lost, her green eyes distressed and frantic. On her back, she carries a big bag, that I didn't see her grab at the cornucopia, but I suppose I wasn't focused on her.

Out of nowhere, she lets out an excited little noise and runs to what looks like only a big rock. But as the camera turns, an opening emerges on the other side. She crawls in, the camera catching her every move from a new device inside her little finding. She plops down on the floor and opens her bag. There's a bag of dried meat, water, iodine, nuts, and a cruel looking jagged knife that she stares blankly at. Looking at her eyes, I can tell it has finally dawned upon her that she will have to kill. Or be killed.

The sun begins to set and the tributes settle in. Soon, Peeta's face is in front of me again. His blond hair is a wet mess, and his face has dirt streaked across it. Luckily, he has made it somewhere safe: a tree. That's the first place I would have been too. He's on a low branch, but is still hidden from sight. Softly, he lets out a gentle sigh and his eyes have a far off look to them. The announcers interpret it as his longing for Ayanna, and a little bit of something heated boils in my chest, a feeling I still haven't pin pointed. She's on the screen again with that same dewy look in those sparkling, wide, emerald eyes.

She smiles sweetly, as howling off her glimmering white teeth, and whispers softly, "Peeta."

She's taken off her jacket and sits only in the skimpy tank top underneath. The material is tight and hugging her ribs and chest. I can't help but think she looks beautiful, and I want to cry. But that's not what I do. And definitely not for some girl. 7 canons go off and the anthem plays. Day 1 comes to a close, but that tight, constricted feeling in my chest, does not.

Author's Note:

Okay I feel awful painting Katniss as the jealous type. But she's never had a situation like that before where she's not the one getting the attention. I felt it would be interesting to see her in that light! Let me know what you think of that!


	11. Chapter 11: The Cave

__**Author's Note: Look at me! Updating all quickly and such. You have no idea how proud of myself I am right now. Thanks for reading! **

**-CA**

_Peeta's POV_

The arena is nothing, yet everything, I expected it to be. I thought it would be scary, violent, and intimidating. What I didn't expect, was the anger that came with being here. Constantly, I was infuriated with the people who put me here and the utter savagery of this situation. I couldn't handle it.

The first day passed in the arena with little event for me. Luckily, I avoided the blood bath at the cornucopia. Most of the day, I was walking, getting as far away from other people as I could. And now, as the sun begins to rise, I start packing up my things again getting ready to move once more.

Haymitch's words bounce around my head: _"Find water, anywhere you can. If you don't, you're hopeless._" I can't help but hope I don't run in to anyone, because I still haven't figured out how I'll be able to kill anyone. Besides, there's nothing I have to kill with. So I settle for finding a river, to hide a best I can and simply survive. I walk as quietly as I can, trying to imitate how I think Katniss would stalk her prey. The result is a complete failure and I laugh silently to myself, feeling a small grin slip on my face. Katniss must think this is tragic. But I keep turning and listening for sounds of someone behind me, and I don't hear a sound. I assume the careers with do what they normally do, hunt at night. So I only have 9 others to worry about, assuming Ayanna won't kill me.

At the thought of her, I sigh with exasperation. I have no idea what to do with her. I can only hope she dies before I do. The cruel thought sends shivers down my spine. Death isn't what I wish for anyone.. Normally. But these circumstances are incredibly twisted. _Maybe I can find her_, I think. If I do, it would only mean more sponsors. Everyone in the Capitol loves a good love story. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm using her, and what I'm doing is incredibly wrong.

As I continue on, the sun travels over my head quickly and my tongue begins to feel dry. I only have half of my water left and my search for that supposed river becomes increasingly desperate. Climbing the hill makes my calves scream in protest. Sure I could lift heavy weights, but hike for a full day? Maybe not. Suddenly, I hear a distant boom, which means the death is nowhere close and I release my breath. Soon after, two more follow it. And I cringe. It must have been a bigger fight, and I can only wonder who is gone.

The sun begins to set again, ending the second day. As I look up, the sky is streaked with beautiful shades of red, pink, and a gorgeous, bright orange. Funny how it can be so beautiful amidst such chaos. I begin to search for somewhere to sleep for the night, maybe a tree again, it seemed pretty secure. But soon, I hear a faint gurgling sound and I hold my breath. I start chasing the sound up the hill and soon the land levels out and I see a small river stretching a fair distance in each direction. I let out my breath in relief and kneel down to the clear water's surface. Cupping my hands, I scoop some of the icy water and splash it on my face, removing the dirt and cooling me off. I wish I could rinse off entirely, but it's getting to late. Soon, the cold will inevitably set in, and a wet body would not agree with that weather. I look around more and finally see a crack in the rocks that looks like a big enough opening to be a cave. I glance around again to make sure nobody sees me, then I step inside, but I was not alone.

"Ayanna?" I whisper cautiously. The figure is sleeping and my words haven't woken her. I move to the other side and see it is her, and she's shaking in her sleep. I can see her skin is raised from the growing cold so I gently shake her shoulders.

"Ayanna," I mutter, "It's me, get up." She opens her eyes slowly, batting her long eyelashes and revealing the green, piercing irises underneath. She smiles at me, and quickly jumps up to wrap me in her arms.

"I'm so glad you found me," she whispers in my ear. Instantly, I feel uncomfortable, deceiving her like this. But I swallow my guilt.

"Me too," I reply with the best smile I can manage. She recaps what happened to her the first day and how she came across this little cave. It feels good that I'm back with her, after all she is my friend, but this alliance could lead to difficulty later. For now, I push that thought of my troubled mind.

"Are you hungry?" She inquires excitedly, "I have food from the backpack I swiped on my way from the platform." It's incredible how proud she looks.

I don't have a chance to reply, before she hands me some dried meat, which I take thankfully. Slowly, Ayanna inches toward me.

"It's getting cold" she mutters. In a panicked moment I take off my jacket and hand it to her, to avoid an embrace. She ignores the gesture, and nuzzles into my side. It takes nearly all that I have not to tell her to get up. But, I can't hurt her like that, and I can't lose sponsors. So I let it happen, and slowly her lips find mine, and I can't stop her.

_Ayanna's POV_

"It's getting cold," I say, looking at him expectantly. He hands me his jacket, but that's not what I'm looking for. So I scoot closer and snuggle into his side. Soon, I turn to face him and lean in. He moves his lips to match mine, and I move my hands to wrap behind him and into his messy blond curls. I'm so lucky, I think. Then laugh at my own words. Sitting here in the middle of what will surely be my place of death, kissing the most wonderful boy in the world.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he puts his arms behind my back, crawling lower by the second, I shiver and the sudden warmth in the cave overwhelms me. Our kisses grow frantic, searching for each other in the dark. I want him so badly, to be mine forever. Suddenly, the breath in my chest hitches, and I let out a weak sob.

Peeta draws back and says, "What's wrong?" "We can't both make it out of here," I say. Another sob comes racking my chest, and hot tears are pouring down my face. Lately, ever since the interview really, Peeta's been a little distant, looking like his mind is somewhere else. Out of nowhere, his perfectly crystal blue eyes look suddenly clear. And their writ with something that's crossed between guilt and despair. But before I know it, he's far away again. I fall into his lap and he starts to stroke my hair.

"Don't worry, Ayanna, it will be alright.. Somehow." He says. I think of how quickly I fell for him once I got to know him on our journey to the games. However, my curiousity _was_ piqued earlier, seeing him in school all the time and hearing girls whispering about him left and right. But now? Practically loving him? How could I be so foolish. It's a mistake that could be the end of me. But I believe his words. And I trust them more than anything, because right now, that's all I can do.


	12. Chapter 12: The Kill

The pain of hunger gnaws at the inside of my stomach. Last night, we ran out of the last of our measly food supply. In the four days that have passed, only 3 more have died, leaving 12 left in the arena, battling for life. The careers are still left, and that girl from 5 with fiery red. Then there's the huge kid from 11 and the little girl Rue. But now, we can't keep safe anymore, because with no food, death is sure to be near. Close to me Ayanna sits, staring up at the cave's black, jagged ceiling on her back. Her cheeks are a bright red color and her chocolate curls a mess. Even in the secluded cave, we cannot escape the heat.

"I wonder what this cave is made of," she mutters quietly, "everything in the arena is artificial you know. They built it all. Just for us." She lets out a sharp, humorless laugh and her eyes flitter over to me carelessly, scanning me over. "How kind of them," she adds with a note of sarcasm. She turns her face back up to the rocks above her and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Watch it," I whisper. Acting ungrateful is surely not the wisest thing to do when her life could easily be snuffed out by the gamemaker's grubby, little fingers. One slight flick of the wrist and tap of the fingers and some force could sweep her away ending her time in the arena. She only rolls her eyes at me, and jumps to her feet.

"Peeta, we're out of food." she says, "and I'm getting hungry."

"Any suggestions on how we actually get any?" I reply, "I can't hunt, can you?"

"No," she mumbles, kicking a rock furiously toward the wall. For a moment, I let my mind wander and imagine that Katniss is here with me, that we're safe, full, and she the one placing soft, warm kisses on my lips during the chilled night. But I'm glad she's not here, because here I still have a chance of getting home to her. I glance over at the pacing Ayanna and cringe. Her dampened curls stick to her face as she turns.

"We can go out at night, maybe?" she proposes.

But I protest immediately, "You know the Careers doing their own kind of hunting at night, right?" Her face becomes stricken with a look of shock. Ayanna is still undeniably in awe of the fact that people die in here, and her innocence is not helping in the slightest.

"There nothing we can do at night from now on. We _have _to stay safe. Let's just go hunting now, okay? We'll see what we can find in the river." She nods obediently, pursing her lips into a little pout, with eyebrows furrowed. She looks a little ridiculous in her attempt to be serious, and I can't help but laugh, so she starts giggling too.

Laughing while we work, Ayanna and I pack up our little bags which now consist of her jagged knife, iodine, a water bottle, my rope, and these odd sunglass looking things. I put my finger to her lips and whisper, "We have to be quiet now, but we'll go to the river first to look for some fish."

Ayanna gives me a sharp nod, and her brown waves sway lightly, She places a soft kiss on my forehead and we turn toward the river. We (sort of) silently make our way out of the cave, and crossed over many leaves that were too loud for our taste. At the river, I see flashes of color across the bottom of the bank and it can only be fish. Scales of orange, grey, red, and white appear and disappear over and over again just under the water's surface, playing games on my eyes. It seems mechanical, the fish come so constantly. For a while, Ayanna and I just stare at the little creatures passing by.

After we've sat there long enough, I turn to her and nod toward the river. Hesitantly, she reaches for the long knife in her bag. Eyeing it carefully, she pulls the dreadful looking thing out and places it in my hands.

Gazing into the river, I brace myself, kneeling on the bank. Suddenly, I reach toward the river, knife in hand, before the fish has time to react. I feel the rough blade penetrate the scaly flesh, and I hold it down, with my hand submerged in the icy water until the fish stops moving. Ayanna is watching in a wide-eyed panic, and in that instant I know she's never had to kill anything before. The thought terrifies me, because soon, she will not only have to end the life of an animal, but look into the eyes of a person and end theirs. A task that even I can't truly comprehend at the moment. She swallows roughly, and I see beads of sweat crowning her forehead.

After maybe 30 seconds, the splashing has ceased, and I the limp creature out of the water. She holds out one of our empty bags to put it into. Gagging, she seals it tight, and waits for me to go for another one. Along with many failures, I get a few more catches, and we agree that we should be done for the day.

"That wasn't so bad," she mutters. But I can see the pale complexion of her skin enough to know she thinks otherwise.

"It wasn't was it? I'm proud of you," I say, beaming at her. She blushes this comical shade of pink and hides behind her curls, so I just start laughing at her, collecting some water as I do so. She grins back at me, placing small kisses across my face and neck. I wonder if she can feel my body stiffen as she presses her mouth against my hot, embarrassed skin. I try to be receptive, but the task is daunting when there is someone at home.

Between one of her kisses, I hear a sharp crunch. My head darts around and I am suddenly face to face with the small girl from District 11. I'm still in a position to fight when I look down to her stomach. There, blood is blossoming on her tiny shirt spreading farther and farther through the white material. In the background, I hear Ayanna gasp and run to the girl, who could not be older than 13. Suddenly, there is an anger in Ayanna's eyes unlike anything I had seen before. The green now appeared stormy and ominous.

Without breaking her gaze, she utters, "Find them."

I break off running in the direction from with the girl came from; I think her name is Rue. My legs are pumping under me as I listen for any movement. Passing trees, and branches, and logs, I cross the terrain stopping for nothing. My legs and arms begin to burn, but I ignore it as long as possible. When I here laughing, however, I stop. A boy from the Careers is standing in the clearing right beside me, chuckling to himself. I turn the cruel blade in my hand, wondering if it was him. Sweat accumulates on my forehead, and then he speaks.

"Stupid girl." In that instant, my arms pulls back and the knife leaves my hand, hurling toward him in a fit of rage. I hear a slicing sound and a wet gurgle of blood, and its over. The blade lays between his shoulder blades, and all I can think of is that I'm lucky I hit him, and that the Rue girl has been avenged. With disgust, I take the blade from his back, and take the bag he was carrying in his now cold fingers. As I step away from the scene, I hear the loud boom of the cannon, letting everyone in the arena know there has been a death.

I sprint back to Ayanna and the girl as fast as my burning muscles can carry me, because I haven't heard her cannon go off yet. As I approach them, I slow to a jog and see Rue, crumpled in Ayanna's arms, rocking back and forth. Ayanna is singing in a slightly tuneless voice, but the moment is beautiful nonetheless.

_Among the flowers_

_Lay down your sleepy head_

_TIme will pass away_

_There's nothing left to dread_

She mutters the words into Rue's ear until her shaking stops. Carefully, she sets the little body on the grass beneath our feet, and whispers, "Sleep tight, Rue" with tears in her eyes. Her cannon sounds, echoing ominously through the forest. 10 left. We silently turn our backs on her, drudging back to the cave. Ayanna leans against the wall, sliding down the rock to sit. I follow suit, and she leans in to my shoulder, crying without any sound. As the tears fall down her face, I wipe them off one by one.

I turn to face her, pulling her frail body into my lap. Grabbing her chin, I pull her face up toward mine. This time, I kiss her. She doesn't take the initiative, I do. I press my lips to hers ever so softly and she blossoms for me. Her lips are salty from all the tears. I keep kissing her until she pulls away, and settles down into my chest, falling asleep, the only sound polluting the secluded cave are her rhythmic breaths.

As she sleeps, I reach into my pocket, and my hand comes across a round, solid object. Trying not to wake her, I pull it out. What I see in front of me surprises me. Being in the arena has made me forget about the most important thing. Her. In my hands is the locket Katniss frantically gave me before I was shuttled off to the Capitol. It's this beautiful golden locket. Quietly, I open the trinket up to find a picture of Katniss and her father, who died years ago in a mining accident. In the photo, she looks young and happy. Not the harsh and slightly untrusting girl I see at home. The way she behaved when she visited me in the town hall was entirely unexpected. I was sure she kissed me to pay me back for the bread incident many years ago. But the locket tells me she wants me to come home. As I lay, staring at the fluttering lashes of the beautiful girl next to me, I can't help but feel the guilt crash around me. But she's my friend. How can I possibly deny her the love and affection she so desires. It's the least I can do for a girl who is going to have to die.

OH MY GOD! I completely forgot about this story. I was sooo busy with getting ready for AP's and wow I am just like unbelievably sorry. Anyway, here it is. Finally. -CA


	13. Chapter 13: The Dream

The night passes fitfully, as my sleep is peppered with a series of dreams that slowly turns into a horrifying nightmare.

It took me by surprise. After my eyes had finally came to a point of complete exhaustion, and they shut for the night, my vision was clouded by images of Katniss. She sits in front of me in the quiet of the cave with her long braid trailing down her back. Ayanna sits curled up in the corner, sleeping away. Her eyelids are fluttering, but her sprawled curls and low breathing clue me in.

I turn my eyes back to Katniss and suddenly she is wearing the exact same uniform that all the tributes in the 74th annual games are wearing. The short sleeve shirt and long pants are fitted to her small, but fit frame. My throat suddenly goes dry, and my hands itch to move toward her, to pull her into a hug.

But I can't. My arms are pinned securely to my sides and any attempt to move them is futile. While I struggle, Katniss begins to lean forward and I catch my breath. She gently places her hands behind my head, entwining them in my blond sweaty curls. Her presence has caused me too sweat far more than is acceptable in this cool cave in the middle of the night.

I try to calm my nerves as much as possible. It doesn't work. My heart thuds in my chest and I can hardly stand how close her lips are to mine.

She closes the gap between us and suddenly red light splashes behind my closed eyes. Swirls of colors. Fireworks.

She keeps kissing me, tracing her tongue over my bottom lip. In that moment I forget where I am and I only know that she is mine.

When she finally takes her lips away from me, she turns my head to the side, placing soft kisses from my mouth over my jaw and to my ear.

Her warm breath brushes over my ear, but I'm too dizzy to hear what she says.

"What?" I inquire.

"You have to kill her." she whispers.

My heart stops it's erratic pounding in a second. I gaze into Katniss' eyes and staring back at me is a frightening mix of darkness and desire. Delicate dark gray, demanding for me to bring death to my only friend in the games.

I swallow.

"You have to Peeta. Come home to me," she begs. "Come home."

She is right. The thought terrifies me, but it is true. What else is there to do?

My body, completely out of my control, gets to its feet. I look down at my hand and I vicious jagged looking thing stares back at me, glimmering in the pale moonlight that makes its way into our cave. My body makes its way toward the crumpled little pile that is Ayanna. I keep moving until I stand directly over her, one boot on either side. Her chest rises and falls quickly in the cold of the dark night, and goosebumps rise over her pale white, weak arms.

I feel hot tears start to run down my face as I raise the knife gripped in my fists over my head. Sobs wrack my body, shivering their way down my spine.

My lips move with words I do not command.

"This is how it must end."

And with that I plunge the weapon into the dead center of Ayanna's back, and her screams pierce the thick, cold midnight air.

With a start I wake up and see that the sun is just beginning to poke through the leaves that block our cave. My breath catches violently in my chest and Ayanna wakes beside me. Worry is stricken across her face and with that guilt crashes upon mine. She reaches up to grasp my face between her delicate, little hands.

"Are you okay?" she whispers to me.

"Fine. Just a nightmare." I mumble back.

"Don't worry," she coos "everything is going to turn out just fine." She places a soft kiss on my dry lips and brushes the hair out of my eyes. "I'll make sure of it."

I sit up and she scoots over to settle down on my lap, an act that feels entirely too close after the dream that only ended a few minutes ago. Regardless, I let her keep comforting me until my heart rate slows down to a manageable pace, because even though she must die, it does not have to be at my hands.

I refuse to let it come by me.

Had some inspiration to start this story back up. I can't even begin to deliver enough apologies for the unreal amount of time that has passed between chapters 12 and 13. Let me know if you still like it!

-CA


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